Me, You and a Dead Guy

Chapter One

The cool, crisp autumn air whirled my long chocolate brown hair in the air, making me scramble to pat it back down. As I scribbled in my sketch book, I listened to the leaves that the wind dragged with it. The orange's and yellow's of early autumn revolved all around me, making the usual ominous graveyard, not so gloomy. Although I was surrounded by sadness, the graveyard brought a comforting presence.

My twin brother, Carson Quinn, suffered a head injury that ended his life two minutes after he arrived at the hospital. Although the car accident happened two years ago, I still visited his headstone every day. I talked to him occasionally, but most of the time I just enjoyed listening to the silence that engulfed me.

Just as I was finally getting somewhere with my sketch, a voice interrupted that silence.

"Hi," He said. My head snapped up and shyly, I replied,

"Hello." I immediately looked back at my drawing, fearing my cheeks have turned red. The very tall, skinny boy, crouched down, trying to regain eye contact. He titled his head in a way, catching my eye once again. The boy looked as if he belonged in the graveyard. Despite his dark brown hair, he was dressed in all black. Black skinny jeans, black leather jacket, black t-shirt, black boots- black black black. His hair was a mess, way too long in some spots and way too short in others-clearly, he was in need of a decent hair cut.

"What are you drawing?" He asked looking down at my sketch book. I quickly slammed the book shut, answering,

"Nothing." I could feel my heart race, as the boy continued to stare at me. His small shiny nose ring caught my eye.

"So, do you just enjoy hanging around in graveyards?" He smirked.

"Do you?" I shot back defensively. His face remained in a crooked smile as he replied,

"There's a good possibility I'm just passing through," I nodded ever so slightly as he reached into his jacket. A small white box emerged from his pocket. "Cigarette?"

"More like lung cancer," I retorted, crinkling my nose at the sight of the thing.

"You're lucky you're cute-" He said, standing and lighting up. Before he had the chance to finish his sentence, I quickly gathered my bag and stood as well. I knew my embarrassment was showing, so I avoided eye contact as I began walking away from him. Footsteps echoed through the graveyard, along with the crunches of dried leaves beneath my feet. "Where are you headed?" He mumbled coming up beside me.

"Home," I answered. I glanced back at my brothers headstone, feeling guilty I didn't say goodbye. "What about you?" I asked, struggling to stray away from his cigarette smoke.

"Where ever you're going," He replied just as we came to the graveyard gates.

"Why?"

"Cute, innocent looking girls shouldn't walk home alone. You could run into some trouble." I frowned a moment.

"You are trouble," I answered hesitating at the gates. He opened his mouth to protest but instead simply nodded and replied,

"Touche." I continued to walk, and the boy followed. I wanted to tell him to leave me alone but I surprised myself by asking,

"What is your name?"

"No names," He replied, glancing down at me.

"What? No, that's weird," I responded, my brows furrowing. His melodic laugh filled the dry air, causing a small grin to form on my face.

"Sirus," He said after a moment of silence.

"Sirus," I repeated, looking at him to see if his name fit his appearance-It did.